The Trials of the Hidden
by fanficfreak457
Summary: Draco's loyalties are certain. Everybody knows who he is going to serve. Or do they? When a dark secret breaks out among the circle of Death Eaters, Draco's world is thrown upside down. In this new reality, where your enemies are now your allies, who will
1. December the 18th

**Title: The Test of the Hidden**

**Disclaimer: All characters are property of the goddess J.K Rowling. If I was her, I would not be here. So don't sue!**

**Warnings: Slash(Harry/Draco), some A/U, maybe some angst later on (but not too much, it gets really sappy) **

**Rating: Mostly T(PG13), maybe some M(PG16) later on.**

**A/N: Hello everybody! This is my first fanfic, and I am rather nervous about showing it to you. I hope you will like it, but if you don't, don't bother reading more of it! Reviews are always helpful, don't go easy on me. I need the critiques! This first chapter is rather slow-paced, but the plot will move faster later.**

**Summary: Draco's loyalties are certain. Everybody knows who he is going to serve. Or do they? When a dark secret breaks out among the circle of Death Eaters, Draco's world is thrown upside-down. In this new reality, where your enemies are now your allies, who will he lean on for support? **

The waving of the wand in a counter-clockwise motion and the deliberate focus on the animal of the wizard's choosing will bring about an intense physical change of...

Draco Malfoy sighed as he massaged his throbbing head. Contrary to what his House believed, the high-and-mighty Slytherin Prince did indeed do his schoolwork himself, thank you very much. It wasn't the first time he had been kept up past midnight, what with the absymal amount of homework he had now in his N.E.W.T year.

Draco smirked inwardly. All except for Potions homework of course. There WERE some advantages to having Snape as a godfather. And being naturally talented didn't hurt either. Rolling up his completed Transfiguration essay and stuffing it into his bag, Draco sauntered over to his mirror. He exhaled sharply, obviously satisfied.

" Damn, Malfoy, you're looking good!" he whispered in a sultry tone, running his hand along his smooth abdomen.

With looks like his, it was no wonder he was the secret fantasy of every girl at Hogwarts. And quite a few of the boys' as well. Quickly scaling off his Hogwarts robes and slipping into his black silk pajamas, Draco Malfoy slid into his bed, relishing the feeling of the satin sheets whisper against him. Closing his eyes contentedly, he mentally reviewed the day. It had been quite a good one, if he did say so himself. Shower in the morning as usual, new Malkin robes delivered at breakfast...Draco frowned. Something had happened at breakfast. Straining his already overtaxed mind, he remembered a shout, and a pair of cowering 7th years.

Scared...scarred...POTTER! Draco's eyes shot open as he groaned aloud. That idiotic Gryffindork couldn't go through a day without getting in trouble, as he had countlessly proved on many occasions. Today, Potter had been trying to show something to the Weasel. Draco couldn't exactly remember the charm that had swelled Professor McGonagall's head to the size of a large beach ball, but once her head was suitably deflated, she had certainly had made crystal clear her idea of the matter.

If detention with Filch was anything to go by, Potter was probably still mopping up in the dungeons without magic. It wouldn't be much of a stretch for him though, Draco mused, as he had grown up without magic anyways. He was probably already stunted by those filthy Muggles. It was too bad, Potter could have been half as good as he was one day...wait a minute! Why the hell was he even THINKING about Potter! The git took up too much of his time already. Closing his eyes and banishing all thoughts even related to a certain Gryffindor, Draco Malfoy drifted off to sleep.

Harry Potter might have been the Wizarding World's hero, but there was no way in hell that he felt like it right now. Bloody effing Filch...the sadistic caretaker had been filled with what had seemed suspiciously like glee at the news of Harry being in his 'care' for the night's detention.

Bloody-he hated irony, groaning as he looked at his badly mangled hands. It looked like Hermione's Murtlap Essence was needed tonight. It was strange, he mused to himself, as he passed through the 2nd floor corridor towards the stairs, that certain teachers should get angry when their students try to learn a spell. You'd think they'd be pleased with the effort.

As Harry arrived up at the Gryffindor Tower, he noticed that the Fat Lady seemed rather...preoccupied. With a certain knight from the Astronomy Tower, no less.

"Er...," he mumbled, trying and failing miserably not to notice the Fat Lady's moans as she was caressed.

"Hello?" The knight was growling hungrily as he nipped at her neck.

"EXCUSE ME!" he shouted rather deperately, and sighed with relief as the portrait turned towards him, holding her velvet dress against her and looked very annoyed.

"Yes? Go on then!" she snapped hurredly, her face betraying her previous engagements as she swung open for a very surprised Harry.

"Erm...thanks." he said confusedly as he rushed past into the Gryffindor Common room, trying not to overhear any more of the exchange. Some guardian, he thought, letting people in without a password.

20 minutes later, as he jumped into bed, the only thing he could recall of the day(they all seemed to blend into each other this close to the Christmas holidays) was Malfoy's pale, pointed face as he had smirked triumphantly at Harry in the Great Hall that morning. That evil-minded git, he thought to himself angrily, he'll probably being doing imitations of me tomorrow.

Now that he thought about it, Malfoy hadn't been as bad as usual lately. Perhaps he had finally matured a little...And now, Harry thought ruefully, I am going insane to believe anything more of Draco Malfoy being a spoiled Death Eater brat. Sighing, he rolled over into a feotal position, though it was a while before he could comfort himself with Ron's snores and fall asleep. Convieniently forgetting the Murtlap Essence.

**A/N:This is it, folks! The first (very short) chapter complete! I'm not going to beg for reviews, although they would be GREATLY appreciated (hint hint) And ffn won't let me change fonts and add spaces! Cansomeone help me?**

**I really think it could have been worse. The next chapter I'll be getting things going a bit more. Right now this chapter is just some background info on the characters. **


	2. December the 20th

**Title: The Trials of the Hidden**

**Disclaimer: All characters are property of the goddess J.K Rowling. If I was her, I would not be here. So don't sue!**

**Warnings: Slash(Harry/Draco), some A/U, maybe some angst later on (but not TOO much, it gets really sappy) **

**Rating: Mostly T(PG13), maybe some M(PG16) later on. **

**Summary: Draco's loyalties are certain. Everybody knows who he is going to serve. Or do they? When a dark secret breaks out among the circle of Death Eaters, Draco's world is thrown upside-down. In this new reality, where your enemies are now your allies, who will he lean on for support? **

**Thank you so much for reviewing everybody! I was so surprised when I found my story on TWO favorites lists already! You don't know how much I appreciate the feedback. I apologize for the delay, I was so busy the**

**And now, individual review responses.**

**Slinky45: Thanks for trying to help me, I will learn this eventually. I am glad you like the story, and hoping you continue reading!**

**fifespice: I tried my best to update sooner, I just was so busy! Thanks for reading!**

**oliver1234: Lol, well I will try to type faster. And actually I said not TOO much sap...but there will be some sap, and I hope you will continue reading regardless!**

**badluck-ngprod: Thanks for reviewing! It's a scary thought to think that I have total control of a story...I will try to live up to the responsibility.**

**And my story takes place in AU, which means the 6th BOOK HASN'T HAPPENED.**

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As Harry Potter dragged himself over to the Gryffindor table for breakfast, he couldn' t help but be grateful for his best friends. The Golden Trio had been (nearly) inseparable throughout their Hogwarts careers, and in times of dire peril, were lifesavers. Case in check: Today.

"Hide me!" Harry whispered desperately to Ron as he wound his way through the tables, crouching low. Professor McGonagall's prying gaze was drawing closer to his elusive form.

"Don't worry, mate! It's not like she still cares! Mind you, though, her face does look a bit puffy still..." Ron's loud words fell rather short of 'comforting', especially as he seemed to draw more people's heads TO Harry than away.

Hermione obviously hadn't heard of subtlelty, either.

"HARRY! Where WERE you last night!"

Harry sighed dejectively.

"I told you, 'Mione. I had slave labour with Filch.'

"Well, I knew that, but you were gone for such a long time! Ron and I had to go to bed after a while, it just got too boring by ourselves."

Harry snickered.

"Are you SURE that if had walked in around midnight, I wouldn't have found you two snogging?

He glanced sideways at Ron. The redhead was crimson. He'd bet every Galleon on him that Ron had wanted to stay up the whole night with Hermione. Honestly, it was taking SO long for them to figure out their feelings towards each other.

Hermione sputtered indignantly as her mouth opened to deliver a scathing remark, but she fell silent at the sight of something behind Harry and Ron.

Harry whirled around. Draco Malfoy was sitting at the Slytherin table, with all of his Housemates clustered around him. He held an opened letter in his hand. The others seemed to wait with baited breath. Slowly and tortuously he raised his head, and Harry gazed into the silver eyes with shock. Surely Malfoy wasn't showing any EMOTION? But as quickly as it had shown up, the mask was over the Malfoy heir's face once again and he turned triumphantly to his Housemates. Harry never got any further than staring confusedly as Malfoy was swept out of the hall by his joyous house.

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All over the school, the rumours were starting. Harry didn't quite know which ones to believe, but he was pretty sure that the one about Malfoy's long-dead ancestor rising from the grave, and leaving him the family fortune had slight traces of falsity. Although the one about Malfoy going down to hell in a few week's time would have been better.

But Hermione had a different view of the goings-on.

"It's the Dark Mark, of course," she stated matter-of-factly as a snowy Harry stared at her blankly after coming in from the much-awaited Quidditch game.

"Wh-what the HELL do you mean, Mione?

Obviously, he wasn't quite past Quidditch yet.

Hermione made an exasperated noise.

"MALFOY, Harry! Or have you really been deaf to the world these past days?"

Harry was looking at her with the weirdest expression on his face.

"Hermione, we just won the big Quidditch game!"

And with that, he headed up to the 7th year dormitories. Hermione sighed dejectedly as Ron came running in.

"'Mione, we just won, we won..." he trailed off, seeing the look on Hermione's face.

"Ronald Weasley, just GO." Hermione's voice carried the power of someone at the end of her rope.

Ron winced as he hastily edged towards the stairs.

"Right then, I'll just..just be off then, shall I? 'Night, 'Mione!", he called over his shoulder.

Hermione listened for the creaking of his dorm door as it opened. Two seconds later, a joyous din floated down the stairs of the boy's dormitories, and wafted over to where she sat by the crackling fireplace in a cozy chair.

'Well then,' she thought to herself bitterly, 'it's up to me now to find out what Malfoy's got to hide.'

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Draco had never had so much booze in his entire public life.The whole of Slytherin House had been partying the weeks away, but he knowing full well that they weren't doing it for him, but for themselves when they got the coveted letter.

But was it an invitation to join the Death Eaters? Draco had seen no sign of the regular lingo meant to inform eager Slytherins of the date, time, and place of the initiation.

Draco shivered involuntarily.

'It had to be what I expected,' he thought somewhat desperatly.

"Not desperatly," his prim inner conscience turned up his nose and corrected,

"Malfoys are never desperate."

To be a Malfoy. All of those traditions, ancestry and lineage business to display.

"Malfoys are the image of calm, effortless elegance," his father had once told him sternly.

'Well, father,' he thought, looking down at the brief letter laying on his desk, ' this certainly upholds your teachings.'

Picking up the letter again as if in a dream, he read over its contents once again:

Draco,

Enjoy the Yuletide cheers as they are given. Our dearest friend will be hosting a party at the waning of this month and we hope to see you in attendance. Not all things will to you be Hidden. Your mother sends you her fondest regards, and hopes you are well.

Ever in honour,

Father

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Far below Hogwartses' jubilous quidditch celebrations and merry chatter, a secret room lay at the root of the magic itself. On first inspection, it seemed to be a deserted classroom. But if someone had bothered to look past the rusting desks, the peeling walls and the sagging cabinet, they would have felt something not quite right. Dark things whispered their secrets through what should have been a non-existent breeze, and the feeling of unuse seemed to be poised on a delicate balance, as if the room was waiting for a command of a certain nature.

A mouse scurried through the thick layer of floor dust towards the front of the room. Where was he? One second he was discussing the finer points of cheese with his friends, the next he was picking himself off of the ground. Stopping suddenly, he lifted his nose into the air and sniffed around. At least when he was first in here, there had been a wind. Now things were quiet. Too quiet. The mouse had heard this quietness before in the Forest, when a predator was about to strike. The calm before the storm.

Suddenly, a flash out of the corner of his eye! Sqeaking with fear, the mouse ran towards the nearest wood giant and huddled beneath some papers. He peered out slowly. The room seemed to mock him in its bareness, chilling him to the bone. Scanning aroung him, he spied a light beneath a door at the end on the room.

Time seemed to slow as he ran, his short legs carrying him as quickly as he could go. The blank posters on the wall burst into life as he ran by them, the drawings on them such that no sane creature should ever see. Candles flared in a green blaze, narrowly missing him as they fell. 'Run, run, run!' ,his mantra seemed to beat with his heart. A shadow rose behind him, growing nearer with every stroke.

And then the room was still again, the posters swaying slightly.

Above in a corridor, two third year girls squealed with disgust at the sight of a mangled rodent body on the ground, the long tail the only indicator of what it had once been.

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**A/N: Second chapter done after a small writer's block. I was so scared of this chapter, because I didn't know how to portray Ron and Hermione! Please review to tell me how I did.**


	3. December the 21st

**Title: The Trials of the Hidden**

**Disclaimer: All characters are property of the goddess J.K Rowling. If I was her, I would not be here. So don't sue!**

**Warnings: Slash(Harry/Draco), some A/U, maybe some angst later on (but not TOO much, it gets really sappy) **

**Rating: Mostly T(PG13), maybe some M(PG16) later on. **

**Summary: Draco's loyalties are certain. Everybody knows who he is going to serve. Or do they? When a dark secret breaks out among the circle of Death Eaters, Draco's world is thrown upside-down. In this new reality, where your enemies are now your allies, who will he lean on for support?**

**Wow, such a long time! I'm sorry for the delay, but I was so busy with midterms. And now, a question. Should I continue this story on ffn? Or should I discontinue it and then just email it to you? No pressure with chappies for me! Let me know.**

**And now, individual review responses. Only 1 this time! Hoping there'll be more...**

**badluck-ngprod: Thanks for reviewing AGAIN! I'm glad you thought Ron and Hermione were portrayed well. I wasn't sure how I did, but it's comforting to know I did well. **

**And my story takes place in AU, which means the 6th BOOK HASN'T HAPPENED.**

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Ah, the beauty of the winter morning. Snowflakes still falling fresh in the chilling breeze, and the brave remaining birds call bright. It was too bad that no happy little sparrows had chirped near Harry Potter's ear that morning. At the very least, he wouldn't have been late for Transfiguration.

"_Shit!_"

The Fat Lady started awake with a shock as her portrait was violently thrown aside.

"No need to be so polite, dear! Of course I routinely watch out for late students!" she screamed after Harry's receding back, his book bag flying after him.

"Sorry!" he called back, not even sparing a glance over his shoulder

Grumbling to herself about the lack of respect from young ones these days(hadn't Neville Longbottom demanded the password lately?) the Fat Lady grudgingly replaced herself.

It was then she noticed the dirty piece of parchment lying carelessly on the ground, with hastily scribbled writing all over it.

Sighing tragically, she hoped Harry would buy himself some new writing material soon. That little scrap of paper didn't look like it was good for anything anymore.

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Draco had been in a nasty mood all day. By first period, he had already sent a first-year sobbing down the hallway. Third period found Peeves cussing madly as he swung in a glass cage over the Tranfiguration classroom. Stained glass, of course. The Malfoys liked to do things right.

Not that any of this bothered Draco. He considered it a form of stress relievation, and by the end of the day he was as cool as a cucumber. Or so he seemed as he walked along the Gryffindor tower hallway close to curfew. If someone had bothered to come along at that moment, or even slightly nearer to the Fat Lady's portrait, they would have heard a very undignified whoop of triumph, followed by a loud thump as a shockingly disheveled blonde raced down in the direction of the Slytherin dungeons, a torn piece of parchment fluttering wildly after him.

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"Harry! _Harry!"_

Harry turned to see Hermione waving madly at him from down the Charms hallway. Behind her, Ron was letting out ragged breaths and rubbing his arm where it had very nearly been torn off by the bushy-haired girl's enthusiasm.

"HarrylookI'vefounditoutitwassoobviousIdontknowwhyIdidntthinkofitbefore-"

Harry stared at her, mouth agape. Behind Hermione, Ron rolled his eyes as if to say, _'I know.'_

"Hermione, look, is this about Drac-Malfoy?"

Since when did he call Malfoy by his first name? But the platinum blond's expression in the Great Hall the previous morning still seemed to haunt him.

Hermione nodded enthusiastically, perhaps missing Harry's downtrodden expression, and the common fact that he wasn't all that quick on the uptake over the past few days.

"Oh, Harry, how could we miss it? All the Slytherins -the pureblooded ones,that is- have been told to be initiated this Christmas!

"You-know-who, oh stop it Harry, all right, _Voldemort_, must have decided on an earlier takeover then planned!"

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Draco had run all the way from the Gryffindor Tower to the Slytherin dungeons, and had vowed, on the way, to resume his regular exercises. The distance had taken its toll on the Slytherin, whose blond hair, had anyone been allowed to come near him in this uncouth state, was slightly damp and stuck to his forhead. But none of this for the first time in his life, even unnerved him. Because in his hot, sweaty hand, he held the private diary entry of one Harry Potter.

Taking a deep, shuddery breath, Draco scanned over the grubby page. The writing's style, his snide writing tutor would sniff disdainfully, looked like a chicken had committed suicide. Draco could still remember his father's cutting comments as he struggled to end the Malfoy signature with a graceful flourish. He wasn't as quick as other boys. He wasn't as strong. He wasn't as smart. He wasn't to know that most little boys by the age of four were worrying only about Quidditch games and racing brooms.

But now he was to know. He was about to know the innermost secrets of the boy he had been trained to hate, compelled to despise, and expected to betray since the cradle. A true Malfoy's duty would be to read the entry. And now, thinking back on his former duties, he wasn't sure if he liked it one bit. But as soon as the fleeting thought had come to pass, it was replaced by his Malfoy conscience. As he stood still as a silhouette, with the day's frost turning to a bitter chill through his open window, Draco Malfoy leaned over his desk and began to read, his cool silver orbs scanning the page as if only scratching the surface of its contents.

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The sound of clothes being thrown all over (or from the poetic Lavender Brown's point of view, into disarray) was being eagerly eavesdropped on by the rest of Gryffindor House, along with the sounds of heated shouting.

" Damn it, Harry! You can't just leave us here, mate!"

In which there was a mighty BANG, and a furious, " I can handle it myself, Ron! I have to do this, what if Voldemort wants to attack Hogwarts eventually? I've got to bloody stop him!"

As a pair of wide-eyed first years shuffled their way closer to the boy's dorm entrance, they could hear Hermione Granger's piercing voice through the room.

"But don't you see, Harry, that to go there would be as good as suicide? You know Lucius Malfoy! The manor will be absolutely COVERED in Death Eaters, and dark spells! Not to mention you don't even know where it is! And I might have been wrong about the whole letter thing, you know!"

Parvati Patil swore she could have seen the irate girl stand glaring at her friends irritably, whilst Ron and Harry inwardly rolled their eyes at the fact that _Hermione_, of all people, was ever wrong.

Harry's voice was even more frigid than the night air as he replied,

"You don't understand, Hermione. This IS my destiny. I don't think anyone can protect me from it now."

" But Harry, surely Dumbledore can help you sort this out!" This in Ron's pleading tones.

A snort was heard.

"Dumbledore, Ron? D'you really think ANY of the teachers, including Dumbledore, could stop at least two fully armed hundred Death Eaters, WITH Voldemort, from taking home students over the holidays? What are you going to do, bring along Trelawney so she can tell Lucius Malfoy that 'his doom is near'? I'm sure he'd be shaking in his boots."

A few footsteps towards the dorm door ensued, and the first years, terrified of being caught, sprung back as if diseased at the sound of Harry's heavy stride down the stairs as he strode quickly towards the door, and disappeared into the darkness of Hogwart's halls to simmer, it seemed, alone.

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**A/N: So sorry for taking so long! I had my birthday today, and finally mustered up enough time to post another chapter. Now, I need your guyses' help: tell me how my story is doing! Is there a hole in the plot? Are the characters unbelievable? Does the story hold your interest? Let me know!**


	4. December the 21st Part 2

**Title: The Trials of the Hidden**

**Disclaimer: All characters are property of the goddess J.K Rowling. If I was her, I would not be here. So don't sue!**

**Warnings: Slash(Harry/Draco), some A/U, maybe some angst later on (but not TOO much, it gets really sappy) **

**Rating: Mostly T(PG13), maybe some M(PG16) later on. **

**Summary: Draco's loyalties are certain. Everybody knows who he is going to serve. Or do they? When a dark secret breaks out among the circle of Death Eaters, Draco's world is thrown upside-down. In this new reality, where your enemies are now your allies, who will he lean on for support?**

**And now, individual review responses. Only 1 this time! Hoping there'll be more...**

**Ranma064- Thank you so very much for reviewing! I was going to let this story go, but you really saved it. So this short chapter is dedicated to you.**

**And my story takes place in AU, which means the 6th BOOK HASN'T HAPPENED.**

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**A**s the scarlet sun peaked over the rolling Hogwarts hills and the gargoyles' shadows grew steadily longer, angrily punctuated mumbling could be heard over the Quidditch grounds as a black, disheveled head of hair strode steadily towards the Forbidden Forest.

"Stupid...shitty idea, Ron, like he's going to...wait for another year! Have to...find what...Malfoy's planning."

As he sat down on a large rock past Hagrid's hut, Harry ruefully concluded that talking as fast as you were walking did not, in fact, conserve energy. And he was going to need all of the energy he could get...

"Shit."

Tonight. How could things have gone so fast? It had seemed only yesterday that he had been an eager First Year, waiting for his first magic lesson with his very own wand. Now he was walking away from the only place he had ever called home, and with it, his only friends...

"Touching, Potter. So cutting your head open **does** make you mad eventually. Hmmmm, scratch _eventually_. I knew you were off all along. Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."

Horrified, Harry turned around to his smirking nemesis, the realization of speaking his innermost thoughts (in front of the last person allowed to hear them) hitting him around two seconds later.

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Madame Pince glared fiercely over her owlish glasses. Never, in all of the years of her devoted service to Hogwarts library, had she ever heard the sacred silence so disturbed. That ridiculous girl was there again-THAT late in the evening-, squabbling madly to Fred or George Weasley! (She never could tell which.) Oh, she knew the Weasleys all right! That tall fellow, Percival, always engaging in indecent acts behind the Restrcted Section with that Hufflepuff girl..._'Chip off the father's block!' _she sniffed disdainfully to herself. But there she was again. Rambling off, with two such obvious troublemakers right on front of her nose! Raising her silver plated Hogwarts stamp high, Irma Pince brought it down again in a fury.

_**"Quiet in the library!'**_

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Ron didn't really see the point of the library to begin with. How was _that_ going to help Harry, out on the grounds? But his girlfriend-('Girlfriend? Where did that come from!') was usually right in the first place. Not like he would have argued with her in a time like this anyways. Though she was particulary pretty when she was angry...

"Ron? Ron!"

Hermione was looking over her shoulder curiously as she leafed through a thick book entitled, " **_The Most Noble: A Epic on Malfoys Through the Ages_**."

"Are you all right, Ron, you look rather red."

Ron instantly wished his slightly alabaster complexion could rid itself of its nasty tendency to stab him in the back.

"Er, nothing, 'Mione. It has to be the bloody hottest day of the year. "

Hermione was staring at him in that pitying way of hers she usually reserved for Harry, Ron or other very small children.

"Ronald. _Honestly_, it's December 21st."

Having clarified this to her poor,hapless, would-be boyfriend,she swept out of the library after checking out the book from an irate Madame Pince.

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**Very short chapter, I'm afraid. This was written in a moment's inspiration for the plea of Ranma064 .**

**Thank you so much for still believing in me! Life has been crazy, what with NYOC auditions and various other attractions...**

**Anyways, please R/R! I am always desperate for critiques, as I know that I am FAR from being a finished writer.**


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